AIR, IN ARTAXERXES.

"The foldier, tir'd of war's alarms,
Exults to feast on beauty's charms,
And drops the spear and shield;
But if the brazen trumpet found,
He burns with conquest to be crown'd,
And dares again the field.”

Oh! be the example copied in each heart,
Let modern Britons act the ancient part,
And you, great Sir, these parting rites receive.
Which, bath'd in tears, your hardy veterans give;
Veterans approv'd, who never knew to yield,
When Howe and Glory led them to the field.
To other scenes your country's facred cause
Now calls you hence, the champion of her laws.
Your veterans, to your brave fucceffor true,
By honouring him, will feek to honour you.
And ye, bright nymphs, who grace this hallow'd
ground,

In all the blooming pride of beauty crown'd,
Still ftrive to footh the hero's generous toils

With what he deems his beft reward, your fmiles.

ODE,

D

E,

ADDRESSED TO GENERAL LEE, WRITTEN IN

SEPTEMBER, 1776.

BY THE SAME.

Infecit æquor fanguine punico.

TO LEE I tune the heart-felt lays,
The fouthern beauties fing his praise,
Joy flushes every charm:

-No more the throbbing matron fears,
No more the foft-ey'd virgin's tears,
Flow at each dire alarm.

Midft chiefs and fages nobly plac'd,
By Freedom's hand with laurels grac❜d,
TIMOLEON-like afpire;

Thy genius may their councils ftamp
The dulleft peafant in the camp,

Thy fpirit lend a fire!

Yankies (tho' cowards) ply their guns,
And not a man the combat fhuns

HOR.

For

This generous Greek confented to the death of his brothers, who had treacherously ufurped the government of Co. rinth.---He afterwards delivered Syracufe from the tyranny of Dionyfius, and established its freedom. Vid. PLUTARCH.

Timoleon glories in his brother's blood, AKENSIDE.

For PARKER'S smoke and racket ; At length the bold Sir PETER droops, Since vain his wish to float the troops With bladders, and cork-jacket.

'Tis LEE who points the vengeful fire,
Britannia's fhatter'd ships retire,
Yon boasting hero flinches;

See in despair he drops his sword;
-For who could pass th' infidious ford
Which fwell'd to feet-from inches *♪

Negroes fhall weep-(our good allies)
And with their DUNMORE fympathife
For all these fad difafters :

-They hop'd to dance round Charles-town flame,
And purchase liberty with fame,

By murdering of their masters.

Your British knives ye Indians ftain,
Stab pregnant wives (to please G-R-E)

And

And flay each traitor's bab-by:
-With bleeding ‡ fcalps ye bishops come,
(Whilft mitred OSNA beats the drum)
To hang them in the Abbey.

Our generals fhew their martial skill;
They made a fight at Bunker's-hill;
From Boston fneak'd away;

Our admirals too have gain'd renown
By burning many a fishing town,
Not in § Nantasket Bay.

When

Lord Dunmore only waits at New York till general Burgoyne croffes the lakes, and delivers him the fcalps of the prifoners mafficred at the Cedars.---A commiffion has paffed the Great Seal, empowering his lordship to receive them.---He is then to return home, and take his feat as one of the fixteen peers; and will certainly receive the thanks of both houfes for his diftinguished conduct and bravery, in the fervice of his king and country ---The rebel fcalps (hæc fpolia opima) are to be confecrated and hung up with great folemnity in Weftminster-abbey, on the 30th of January. ---The bishop of Ofnaburgh has learnt to beat the drum, in order to attend the reverend bench, and to officiate in the proceffion with becoming grace and dignity.

Lord Holderneffe modeftly intimated fome apprehenfions, that his highness's morals might be corrupted whilft he remained under the tuition of a drummer of the guards.---The bishop complained of this to the prince of Wales, and lord Holderneffe was obliged to refign.

"The commodore Bankes (in Nantafket road) bore

our

When S-ND-CH hangs in fatire's chains,
And S-CK-LLE's ghoft haunts || Minden plains,
When history has damn'd 'em :

The muse shall confecrate thy name,

And give LEE to immortal fame,